Ophiuchus
by Shadowface
Summary: Major AU! I've changed a lot! IT IS NOT CANON! Sirius is Harry's dad and died shortly after his birth. Lily was a Pureblood, and Harry was raised by Granny Black. Slytherin!Harry cause I love him DISCONTINUED.
1. Happy Birthday

**Authors Note:** I have not abandoned my other fics, I am in the middle of writing the next chapters; I just had to write this.  (It's been in my head since I first read a "Snape is Harry's father" challenge fic).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; I do own the original ideas in my head unrelated to HP.

**Authors Notes #2:** This is a highly experimental fic—to my knowledge it has never been done, and so I ask that you, my readers, please review!

**A/N #3: **Also note that although his name is "Harold" in this story I will still address him as "Harry."  Harold will be his public name. This starts out at the end of chapter one in HP and T.P.S./T.S.S.

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                                                                     **Prologue**

            Albus Dumbledore was surprised by the figure sitting in his office. "Mrs. Black, it's a pleasure to see you…."

He was cut off by a curt gesture.  "I want my Grandson, Dumbledore."

Albus arched his eyebrow.  "You are in no condition to demand anything…nor is there any evidence that he is your grandson."

            "I have the marriage contracts, birth certificates, and if those aren't enough I have a copy of my family tree."

            Dumbledore looked down on her, his lip curling slightly.  "All of which could be faked."

            Cassiopeia Black glared at the man in front of her.  "Where Is He!" she demanded.

            He smiled.  "With his mother's relatives"

            "The muggles?" she gasped.

            "Yes, the muggles," he smirked, "and the first wizard he'll have contact with will be me."  He sneered at her one last time.  "I'm sure you know the way out."  Then, he left the room.

            Cassiopeia Black gave a short laugh.  "Foolish old man, told me exactly where to go."  And with that thought, she left the castle and apparated at Number four Privet Drive.

                                                                **Chapter One**

            Harold Ophiuchus, Dominus Black (in the old form) was lying down on his bed waiting for the phantom clock he had conjured to hit 0:00.  _Only two more minutes, _he said to himself.  He waited the two minutes, and when it finally happened the new eleven-year-old jumped out of bed and walked down to the kitchen.  He was unsurprised to find his grandmother and Kreacher already at the table.  It was Black tradition to meet with the matriarch of the family on the hour of the eleventh birthday.

            He sat down in his chair across from his grandmother and waited.

            "Harold, you are now eleven; it is time for you to take up the mantle of your families.  Are you prepared?"

            He nodded, "Yes, Grandmother"

            "You are the heir of the Black family, of the Evans family, and through the Evans family, you are the heir of Slytherin and Potter. Your families are over four thousand years old, and therefore you have enormous responsibilities.  You own thirty-seven properties worldwide, a seat on the French Wizarding council, a place on the Hogwarts board of governors, sixteen vaults in the English and French Gringotts branches, and fourteen house-elves. I have taught you how to handle your affairs; are you ready?"

            "Yes Grandmother."

            She reached under the table and brought out a box.  Carved into the lid was a silver and black snake.  "This is the vessel of your families, created by your mother and father on the eve of your birth; in it you will find the emblems of your families."  She handed it to him, and he took it reverently from her hands.

            He ran his hands over the box, savoring its heat like a lover's embrace.  He flicked up the clasp and opened the lid.  There was a flash of light, and when Harry could see again, he was struck dumb by the contents.  He reached down hesitantly, gently took the items out, and set them down one by one on the table in front of his grandmother.  When he was done, he closed the lid, fastened the clasp, and set the box aside.  He then looked back at his Grandmother.

            "I have before me the four symbols of your inheritance."  She pointed to the black-stoned silver-banded ring.  "This is the Ring of the Blacks.  It has been passed down since long before our family was called 'Black.'  It symbolizes the magic of our choice."

She pointed at the emerald incrusted ring.  Its silver band was in the shape of a snake eating its tail.  "That is the ring of the Slytherin family.  It symbolizes the unique companionship they have with snakes.  It was crafted by the Naga over two thousand years ago."

"That," she said, pointing at the earring with a blood-red stone, "is the symbol of the Evans family.  It symbolizes the battles that forged them into the great family they became."

"This," she said, running her hand over a simple iron hoop, "is the symbol of the Potter family, and it represents their most important family traits: it is unbreakable and unadorned."  She looked at him. "They are not your family by blood, but you are the Potter heir nonetheless; do you understand?"

            "Yes Grandmother, but why did James Potter make me his heir?"

            "He was found to be sterile.  The Potters were notorious for marrying into wizarding families only from England.  They refused to marry Magical beings, and they refused to marry outside of the Isle.  After five hundred years of inbreeding, all sorts of problems crop up.  It was quite disgusting really.  His mother was his own second cousin."  She paused.  "Another reason was that you were his godson, not to mention his adopted son from the mere fact that you were his wife's child and therefore his legal heir should he have died without a child of his loins, which of course he did."

            Her tirade ceased and she gave him a smile (albeit a small one).  "Tomorrow when we go to Diagon Alley to purchase your school things, we'll get your ears pierced so that you'll be able to wear these"--she gestured at the earrings--"but put on the rings now"

            Harry picked up the rings and put the Black family ring on his middle finger (the position of power) and the Slytherin ring on his ring finger (as a sign that he received this part of his heritage from his mother).  He felt warmth when they were both on, and he was aware of the Slytherin ring adjusting to fit his finger.  He heard a faint whisper of _"Master" _and then it was still.

            His grandmother seemed pleased and her smile spread wider.  "Good.  Now off to bed."

            Harry nodded and gathered up his new possessions.  He left the kitchen and, after depositing the items onto his nightstand, fell onto his bed and went to sleep.

Next chapter: Diagon Alley!


	2. Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: I might own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: I might not own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Disregard all of those idiots up there; I definitely **_DO NOT_** own Harry Potter.  He is owned by that one lady…over there.  Note, too, that I have used several passages from HP & SS/PS—I definitely don't own those!

**Author's note:** I'm back!

            "Here it is, Harry…Gringotts."  She looked at him.  "Here are your keys and your Hogwarts list.  Remember to treat the Goblins with respect; they are valuable allies, who appreciate manners."

            Harry took the key ring from her hand and murmured a polite, "Yes ma'am."

            "Good.  I'll meet you at Madam Malkins in two hours.  Don't purchase a familiar; I'll buy you one for your birthday.  Later, we'll go to the jeweler to pierce your ears."  With that, she was off.

            Harry walked into the bank and looked around.  He sneered at the families trading muggle money for wizard money as he made his way towards a teller.

            "Can I help you?" the Goblin asked abruptly.

            "Yes.  I wish to be taken to one of my vaults…the Black vault"

            "Do you have the key?"

            Harry handed over the key ring and watched as the goblin's expression turned from rude to respect bordering on fear.

            "Sir," the goblin said in a friendly voice, "if you could wait just a moment….GRIPHOOK!"

            "Yes?" demanded another goblin.

            "Take Dominus Black to the Black family vault."

            "Yes sir."  He turned to Harry and bowed.  "If you'll follow me, sir?"

            Harry nodded toward the teller and followed Griphook into a large cavern.

            "Into the cart now, milord."

            Harry complied and they were soon speeding down into the bowels of the earth.  Harry was the first to break the silence.  "You must see a lot, being a vault-guide."

            "Indeed sir.  Just yesterday I escorted that big fellow, Hagbread or something.  I had to take him to Dumbledore's personal vault—vault seven hundred and thirteen, unless I'm much mistaken—and all that was in there was a little grubby package."

He shook his head.  "People don't even store gold in vaults anymore, just little valuables.  Shame really."

The cart pulled to a stop, and his face brightened.  "Here we are: vault one hundred and forty-two."  They both stepped out of the cart.

"Have you got your key?"

            Harry handed him the key ring, and Griphook opened the vault.  A cool gray fog flowed out of the now open doors, chilling Harry to the bone.  Griphook lifted the lantern over his head, and Harry let out a gasp. _The vault was huge! _ He entered and made his way to one of the smaller piles, where he filled his bag to bursting and then made his way back out.

            Before closing the vault, Griphook gave a quick glance and an approving nod.  "Now this," he said appreciatively, "is a proper vault"

            And then they were off.

            Harry glanced down at his list.  _Might as well get my books first. _ He walked into the bookstore and quickly gathered the required books.  He then made his way to where the more advanced books were located.  He bought _Midnight Magic: A Guide to Ancient Rituals of the Night_, _The History of the Potions Guild_, _Dragons: Dangerous or Misunderstood?_, _Potion Ingredients that Destroy_, _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, and _Nature's Nobility: A Comprehensive Guide to Pureblood Families Worldwide_.  (A/N: I think I may have stolen that last from someone.  If it's yours, please tell me and I'll change it.)

Then he went to the Apothecary and purchased his potions ingredients (those on the list and also some more interesting ones, e.g. powdered unicorn horn and a Dragon's liver).

Next, he stepped out onto the sunny street and made his way to a dusty old shop with an old sign over the door which said, in peeling gold letters, "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."  A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside.  It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair that looked so uncomfortable that Harry was loath to sit on it.  He looked around the shop, tiny shivers raking his body; the very air in this place seemed to be magic.

"Good afternoon."

Harry, who—after living with Kreacher all of his life—was accustomed to people sneaking up on him, merely raised an eyebrow at the old man standing before him.  "Good day, sir.  I'm here for a wand."

The old man chuckled and said, "It seems only yesterday that your mother was in here herself, buying her first wand, ten and a quarter inches long, made of willow.  You have her eyes, you know.  Or should I say, you have the eyes of the Evans family?"

Harry grinned at his abrupt question.  His grandmother had always told him that off-topic questions were the easiest way to get answers, "You might also say sir that I have the eyes of a Naga…but you are too polite for that."

"True, true.  Your father favored a completely different wand: twelve inches, made of oak—excellent for transfiguration."  He gave a short laugh.  "The first time he used it was here in my shop.  Turned me into a pelican.  It took him four hours to change me back.  Now," he said, rubbing his hands together, "let's get you fitted with a wand."  He started to pull boxes off the shelves.  "Have you used a wand before?"

"Yes, my grandmother's."

"Ah, I see.  Her wand was nine inches with the core of a phoenix—particularly good with curses."  He looked at Harry.  "But I expect you already knew that."

Harry _did_ know that, but he wasn't going to admit it to the old man.  "No sir, my grandmother just taught me how to levitate tea trays."

Ollivander chuckled.  "You don't have to lie to me, Mr. Black; I know what the pre-Hogwarts education entails."

"Oh, I thought that most people disapproved of the old ways."

"Magic is magic, Mr. Black, light or dark…it matters little to me, nor does it matter to me _when_ a child begins to learn magic."

He stopped piling the boxes on the counter and pulled out a wand from the top box.  " Here, try this one.  Beachwood and dragon heart string.  Nine inches. Nice and flexible."

Harry took the wand and gave it a short wave.  Nothing happened.

"No, no, try this one.  Maple and phoenix feather.  Seven inches. Quite whippy."

Harry tried, but this too was a failure.

"No matter.  Here, ebony and Unicorn hair."

Harry tried wand after wand and each one a failure.  Ollivander went to the back room to get what he said was "one last wand."  When he came back, he handed it to Harry reverently.  "Try this one."

Harry took the wand into his hand and felt a very welcome rush of power flow through his hand and engulf the rest of his body.  He gave the wand a wave and was gratified when a shower of black and green sparks shot out the end.

"Wonderful.  Oh marvelous!  But also curious."

"What sir? What's curious?"

"This wand, my boy, this wand was made by an infusion of yew and holly with a single phoenix tail feather, fourteen inches, a very powerful wand.  And its brother gave you that," he said tracing Harry's almost invisible scar.  "Thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew, powerful, and a phoenix feather from the same donor as the one in your wand.  Well, that comes to twelve galleons."

Harry paid and was soon on his way.

Next up: Madam Malkins and a certain blond-haired cousin.


	3. Madam Malkins and Magical Monsters

Disclaimer: IdonotownHarryPotterIdonotownHarryPotterIdonotownHarryPotter, etc.

Author's Note: I love everyone that reviewed! (The platonic kind of love.)

A/N #2: Again, I've used dialogue, which I'm sure you'll recognize, from HP & SS/PS.

            Harry entered Madam Malkins exactly four minutes late. He looked around and was very surprised to find that his grandmother was not yet there.

            "Can I help you, dear?"

            Harry turned around and saw a kindly old witch smiling at him.  Her smile immediately faded as she took in his long hair and his aristocratic poise.  Her eyes drifted down to his hand and rested on his family rings for a moment then it drifted up and lingered on his telltale scar.

            "Dominus Black!"--she bowed--"if you'll come this way, the young master Malfoy is currently getting fitted."

            Harry nodded and said, "My grandmother will be here shortly; be sure to offer her a seat and tell her of my activities."

            "Of course, milord."  She opened a door.  "Right this way…my assistant will fit you for your robes while I wait for your grandmother."

            "Thank you."  He stepped in and allowed himself to be ushered to a stool by the assistant, who appeared to have been listening in on the conversation through the door.  There was a blond boy standing on the stool next to him.

            "Hello," said the boy.  "Hogwarts too?"

            "Yes," said Harry.

            "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at owls," said the boy.  He had a bored, drawling voice.  "Then I'm gong to drag them off to look at racing brooms.  I don't see why first years can't have their own.  I think I'll bully father into getting me one, and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

            Harry found himself liking this boy immensely; there was just one problem--"Cousin Narcissa would be easier to convince, and then she can bully Lucius into buying a broom."

            The boy's eyebrow arched.  "You know Mother and Father?"

            Harry waited until the assistant was on the left side of him before reaching out his right hand. "Harold Ophiuchus D…Black," he said, remembering his grandmother's warning about throwing "Dominus" around.  "I met your parents a few years ago when we were at the ministry.  Your father did a good job with the minister."

            Draco, who had yet to be fitted, took the offered hand, but immediately released it and stared at his now red hand.

            "Oh, sorry about that," said Harry.  "My grandmother warned me about that, but I had forgotten."

            "What happened?"

            "The ring," he said, wiggling his middle finger a bit, "recognized you as a family member.  The shock is its way of warning you not to try a coup."

            "Oh…that's helpful."

            "Indeed."

            "What house do you think you'll be in?"

            "I've no idea."

            "No one really does, but I bet I'll be in Slytherin; the whole family has been—imagine being in Hufflepuff…I think I'd leave; wouldn't you?"

            "Better Hufflepuff than Gryffindor."

            The blond seemed to consider this before nodding: "Good point."

            "All right, milord, you're done."

            Harry nodded at Draco--"I'll see you at Hogwarts"--and then he left the room.

            Harry stepped into the front room and made his way to where his grandmother was sitting.

            "It's about time you came out; what were you doing in there?"

            "I just met my cousin Draco Malfoy—charming boy."

            Cassiopeia nodded.  "Is he anything like Lucius?"

            "He's not as rude."

            "Will you be able to cultivate him?"

            "With time.  For now I will make an effort to befriend him; later we can discuss an alliance."

            She nodded.  "Do so."  She arose from the plush chair and made her way to the door.  "We'll go to the jeweler's and then to get you a familiar."

            "Curse the ministry for naming the 'Piercing curse' a Dark curse."

            His grandmother just chuckled and said.  "Let's get you a familiar; what do you want?"

            "A snake."

            "Well then we'll have to go down to Knockturn Alley."

            The shop was called "Magical Monsters."  It was a rundown building that seemed to be made more of dirt than wood.  After they entered, they had to wait for their eyes to get accustomed to the lack of light.  Harry turned to his grandmother, and they stared at each other for a little while before she waved him off saying, "Go and pick something out.  I'll go get the shop keeper."

            Harry looked around for a bit.  He talked to several of the snakes, but most of them seemed happy where they were.  He had just about given up when he saw it.  He carefully grabbed the box and made his way to where the shopkeeper was talking with his grandmother.

"Excuse me, sir."

            The shopkeeper looked down his nose at him and demanded in a nasally tone, "Yes?"

            Harry smirked up at him: "Isn't it illegal to sell Basilisk eggs?"

            "I don't know what you are talking about young man."

            "Then you wouldn't mind me taking this, free of charge?"

            "Yes, I would mind!"

            "I don't think you will."

            "That was impressive."

            "Thank you, grandmother."

            "Is it really a Basilisk egg?"

            "Yes."

            "Can you make it hatch?"

            "Yes."

            "Will it be dangerous?"

            "According to the _Diary of Herpo the Foul_, the eye-of-death is a voluntary defense mechanism; they are able to turn it on and off at will."

            "You've read the _Diary of Herpo the Foul_?"

            "It's written in Parseltounge; you wouldn't be able to read it."

            This seemed to pacify his grandmother.  "You can control it though?"

            "Yes."

            "That's good.  We wouldn't want it to kill anyone on accident."

            Harry smiled at her wording.  They had been home for an hour and all the while she had been questioning him.

            "So, what did you learn?"

            "Dumbledore had Hagrid withdraw something from his personal vault, the same vault that was robbed yesterday, remember? It was in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning."

            His grandmother looked at him appreciatively.  "Whatever it was, it must be valuable.  Keep your ears open when you get to Hogwarts; we must take every opportunity to take our vengeance."

            "Yes Grandmother"

            "Remember, you must be wary of him; he will try to corrupt you."

            "I remember the things he said about our family, the lies he spoke about you.  He will not corrupt me."

            "You can find out more about your new familiar tomorrow.  Goodnight Harold"

            "Goodnight Grandmother."

            **_Flashback_**

****_A young boy sat on a hard bench.  Before him was the only person he had ever known being called a criminal by an old man with a false smile.  His attention wavered. They were asking him a question._

_            "Has she ever hurt you?"_

_            "I don't understand."_

_            "Has Mrs. Black ever hurt you?"_

_            "Grandma? Why would she hurt me?"_

_            The voice chuckled.  "We'll take that as a 'no.'  Do you know who your mother was?"_

_            The boy looked up at the man.  "Yes, my mother was named Lily Potter."_

_            "Do you know who your father was?"_

_            "Sirius Black."_

_            "Do you know who James Potter was?"_

_            "He was my godfather."_

_            There was a general murmuring, and the old man shouted, "Do you see?  She not only kidnapped him, but she has filled his ears with her lies!"_

_            Harry looked at the old man.  "She did not!"  The floor cracked and the old man's chair legs started to burn. _

_Lucius Malfoy stood up and shouted over the din, "There is another way!  Use the Genealogy Charm to discover his parents._

_He pointed his wand at Harry and suddenly four words formed over his head:_

**SIRIUS BLACK **and **LILITH POTTER**

The old man conjured a chair and sat down, and for a moment Harry was scared.  The man had malice in his eyes, but the moment passed and the man was smiling again.  "An old man's mistake.  I'm afraid I must offer my apologies."  He left the chair and nodded toward the minister.  He then walked out of the room.

_But his malice-filled eyes haunted Harry's dreams._

Tell me what you think!


	4. The Oath Breaker's Spawn

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Do you? Can I buy him? Please?

Author's Notes: I've named the Basilisk _Oculi Venenati_, which is Latin for "Poison Eyes."

Disclaimer: Again I've used some lines from the book; you'll recognize them for J.K. Rowling's work and not mine; furthermore, this Disclaimer is to be used here on out for my blatant Plagiarism. It applies to the whole story!

"Packed with muggles as usual; why do they insist on using this infernal train?"

"It's a way of meeting one's future classmates."

"Excuse me?"

"That's what was in _Hogwarts: A History_. It's sort of the truth though. The real reason is that they want the Muggle-born's to have time to form alliances, or "friendships," with unsuspecting, innocent pureblood children (who don't yet have their opinions formed)."

"Good reasoning….All right, here we are…do you have every thing?"

Harry nodded, "Yes Grandmother."

"Do you have Oculi Venenati? The last thing I need is to accidentally sit on a Basilisk."

Harry grinned and lightly patted his inner pocket. "She's right here."

Cassiopeia sighed, relieved, "Good, if you forgot anything else, just Owl me….By the way, did you finally name your owl?"

"Yes, I named her Hedwig"

"That name sounds familiar."

Harry smiled. "It should. She was the Dark Witch who invented _Avada Kedavra_; she later married our ancestor Eron Black."

"A good name then." She bent down and kissed the top of his head. "I'll see you during Winter Holiday."

"Goodbye, Grandmother."

She gave him a smile and with a small _pop_ she was gone.

Harry levitated his belongings into the end compartment, where he proceeded to cast muggle repelling and locking charms all over the door. (The Mudbloods hadn't yet performed any magic; therefore, they were still muggles.) He then took out Oculi and settled down to enjoy a quiet ride.

Harry was awoken a little while later by the sound of pounding on his door. He jumped up and yanked open the door and found himself looking up at a tall, redheaded boy. _A Weasley, _he thought in disgust.

Ronald Weasley looked at the boy in front of him. _A rich boy,_ he thought, taking in the classy robes and jewelry. He sneered. The boy had long hair _like a girl_ and vibrant green eyes.

"They're saying that Harold Black is on the train. I've looked all down the train and this is the only compartment left…" he paused. "Are you him?"

"Excellent deduction skills; is there any thing you want?"

The boy held out his hand. "I'm Ron Weasley; it's a pleasure to meet you Harry."

Harry sneered, "You will address me as 'Dominus Black' or as 'Black,' never Harry. I have not given you leave for such familiarity, nor will I, as I do not consort with Oath Breakers or their Spawn." He paused and let his sneer grow. "Tell your family that." He then whipped out his wand and blasted the Weasley brat out of his doorway.

"Nice work."

Harry looked up and saw Draco Malfoy smirking at Weasley. "Hello Draco"

"Hello…?"

"You may call me Harry."

"Very well…Harry." He glanced back at Weasley and asked, "What did you mean?"

"About what?"

"When you called Weasley an Oath Breaker."

Harry walked back into his compartment. "Sit down; it's a long story"

Harry sat in his grandmother's lap while her arms curled protectively around him. He didn't really understand what she was saying to the people who had come to visit, but he could hear tears in her voice:

_ "You have to help me!"_

_ The tall man with red hair shook his head. "I will not go against Dumbledore's wishes. The boy will be in the care of his mother's family, and I'm sure that you'd be able to visit once he starts Hogwarts."_

_ "I WILL NOT GIVE MY GRANDSON TO A PAIR OF FOUL MUGGLES!"_

_ The woman, short and (also) redheaded, said, "There is no proof that he is yours."_

_ His grandmother gave a few shuddering sobs, but then she recovered. "You will take him away?"_

_ The man nodded. "You are to stand trial before the full Wizengamot on August 4th. Harry will live with his mother's relatives until the trial, where he will be interrogated so they can ascertain the extent of your punishment."_

_ "And you will not help me get him back?"_

_ The woman snorted, "Help you? What have you ever done for us?"_

_ The man gave his wife a small glare before saying, "We will not go against Dumbledore."_

_ His grandmother drew herself up. " Arthur Weasley, Grandson of Abram Weasley, who swore everlasting fealty to the Family Black, I name you Oath Breaker. You and your family are stricken from the tree, your vaults are forfeit, and your titles are ripped from you"_

_ The man paled but the woman just sneered, "That is of no matter; give us the boy."_

_ "Hush Molly…" the man said._

_ "I will not. She has no power over this family." She glared at the older woman. "Now give us the boy…."_

"The Weasley's are the ones who took you away from her?"

"Yes."

"So that's why they're so poor."

"Was that a question?"

"No; it was a statement"

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. When I ask questions, I use a questioning tone."

"Most people do"

Draco smiled, "You're an odd fellow, cousin."

"I am a Black—we are not 'odd'; we are sophisticated."

"Is that where mother gets it?"

"Was that a question?"

"Didn't you hear the questioning tone?"

"So it was?"

"Yes."

"What does your mother get from the Blacks?"

"I forgot."

"Did you now?"

Their verbal bantering went on for a few hours, until a round-faced boy interrupted them.

"Hello" he stuttered out nervously, "have you seen a toad? I lost mine."

"I haven't seen it. If I do I'll tell you…?"

"What? Oh! Sorry. I'm Neville Longbottom."

Harry's eyes shuttered. "I'm Harold Black."

Neville's eyes drifted up to the scar. "P-pleasure to meet you."

Harry nodded. "And you. What's your toad's name?"

"His what? Oh, it's Trevor."

Harry pulled out his want and intoned, "_Accio Trevor the toad."_

There was a crashing sound and a scream, and then a toad came flying through the door and landed on Harry's outstretched hand. "Here he is," he said, handing the toad to Neville.

"Oh, thank you!" Neville cried out blissfully, before running down the hall shouting, "Hermione, I found him!"

"_Tempus."_

"We should get our Hogwarts robes on; we're almost there."

Draco nodded and went to his original compartment to change.

_"You'll need to hide up my sleeve," _said Harry to Oculi after he had finished changing. The snake complied.

Just then a monotonous voice rang out around the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."

The five minutes passed quickly. When the train finally pulled to a stop, Harry left the compartment and made his way off the train.

The inky blackness of the night seemed to surround him. Harry looked around to see a giant man yelling for the first years to follow him. Harry complied, joining the other first years.

"Hello Hagrid," he said smiling.

" 'Arry, nice to see you; 'ows your granma?"

"She's quite well, Hagrid; thank you."

"S'no problem." He peered at the others. "Yeh all there? Good, let's go."

The first years followed Hagrid down the cliff, and Harry found himself walking next to Draco.

"Why were you nice to the oaf?"

"Draco," he said reprovingly, "his family is older than yours. Therefore, he merits some respect."

"Yes…but…look at him!" he demanded. "He's an uneducated lout."

"He's a family friend. In fact, he's the one who gave me my owl."

"Really?"

"Yes, he spoke against putting me with the Dursleys…the muggles," he added seeing Draco's confusion. "When I told my grandmother that, she decided to befriend him."

"Oh…I guess he's not that bad."

Harry snorted, but said nothing.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called out--"jus' round this bend here."

There was a chorus of "Ooooohs!" and then the students found themselves on the edge of a black lake. They walked onto the docks and waited for Hagrid's instructions. When they had them (no more than four to a boat), they boarded the boats.

Draco and Harry were on one, accompanied by Neville and a girl Harry recognized as a Parkinson. (The pug-like face was a dead give away.) They sat silently as the boat drifted across the water. When the boat finally stopped, they saw a giant staircase. They climbed out of the boats and made their way up. Hagrid rapped once on the door at the top of the staircase, and the students watched as it slowly opened.

A/N: What did you think?


	5. The Sorting Hat's Pet Peeve

Disclaimer: I've used lines from the book (again); it won't happen very often after this chapter, especially since I don't own Harry Potter & I don't want to make the real owner (one of the greatest authors—right up there with Virgil and Catullus) mad at me!

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, put me on their favorites list, and/or put me on their author alert list.

This chapter is dedicated to Kage Mirai, read her stories!         

The door was opened immediately by a tall black-haired witch in emerald-green robes.  She had a stern face, but when Harry looked at her closely he noticed that her eyes were smiling.

            "I got the firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

            "Thank you, Hagrid.  I will take them from here."

            She pulled the door wide.  The entrance hall was big…not as big as the one in the Black Manor…but big all the same.

            They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor.  Harry could hear the drone of conversation beyond the doorway to the right.  Professor McGonagall ushered them into a small, empty chamber off the hall.  They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering around nervously.

            "Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall.  "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses.  The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts.  You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

            "The four Houses are called Gryffindor (she seemed to smile briefly), Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.  While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose your House points.  At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor.  I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

            "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

            Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear and on Ron's blackened face (as a result of the blasting hex Harry had used—real fire!).

            "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall.  "Please wait quietly."

            She left the chamber.  Harry walked over to Neville and unfastened his cloak.  When Neville tried to grab the cloak back, Harry admonished him, "Hold on a second."  He swept the cloak over the boy's shoulders and fastened it on his collar.  "There, now you look respectable."

            Neville blushed and whispered, "thank you," before looking down.

            Harry smiled and walked back to Draco.

            "You seem to make friends with all the misfits."

            Harry's smile faded.  He turned to Draco.  "You will leave him alone, do you understand?"

            "Why?"

            "Because," Harry hissed, "we both owe him a blood debt that we will never be able to pay!  If not friendship, we at least owe him respect!"

            "What do you mean? What Blood debt?"

            "Bellatrix!  Or have you forgotten the shame of our families!"

            "She got sent to Azkaban, but I don't see what that has to do with Longbottom."

            Harry glared, his eyes hard.  When he spoke, his voice was colder than an artic wind in January, "Ask your mother; until then, _He is not to be touched_!"

            Draco nodded quickly, scared, at the boy in front of him.  He looked around and saw the other first years looking on.  He definitely had to find out what had made his cousin blow up in front of a crowd.

            "We are ready for you."

            The first years made there way into the Great Hall.  Harry found himself staring at the ceiling.  He had, of course, read about it, but it was amazing nonetheless.

            They approached the High table and Professor McGonagall's voice rang out: "When I call out your name, come over here, place the Sorting Hat on your head, and then you will be sorted into your house."  She stepped aside so they could see the hat….suddenly it's brim opened and a voice sang out:

            _"Oh, you may not think I'm Pretty…"_

            And then the room broke into applause, and Harry realized that he had missed the song….He had been talking quietly with Oculi.

            "Abbot, Hannah."

            A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails ran up to the stool and took the sorting hat; she sat down and jammed it on her head so that it covered her eyes.  A moment and then,

            "HUFFLEPUFF!"

            There was an assortment of claps and cheers as she joined their table.

            "Black, Harold."

            As Harry walked slowly up the steps he could here the little whispers spreading like wisps of flame.

            "_The_ Harold Black?"

            "Is it really him?"

            Harry grabbed the hat and eased it on his head.

            "Hmmm," said a tiny voice in his ear.  "Interesting: a Black who thinks like an Evans.  Your grandmother did a good job raising you boy."

            "I'll tell her you said so," Harry muttered softly.

            "See that you do.  Now, where to put you?  You would do well in Ravenclaw—very smart.  Or Hufflepuff—loyal to your family.  Even Gryffindor to an extent, though I do not think you are suited for that house."

            "Why?"

            The hat chuckled, "Because Dumbledore told me to put you in there of course!  Humph!  Foolish man thinks his position as headmaster gives him a right to interfere with a Sorting.  Stupid Gryffindor."

            "Weren't you Gryffindor's Hat?"

            "He was stupid, too!  Couldn't keep his ugly nose out of people's business.  He was always trying to get me to give up the student's secrets.  I tell you, it's a good thing that Salazar thought to give me free will; otherwise, I might be divulging your secrets."

            "I thank you for you silence."

            "Not a problem—any thing to frustrate Dumbledore, another man with a funny looking nose!"

            "It must be horrible sharing an office with him."

            "You have no idea!  And his bird!  Ugh, disgusting creature.  Why, just last week I was thinking up the last verse for my song and the flaming bird comes up and sh-."

            "Perhaps I could visit you?  Knowing Dumbledore, I'll be in there often enough, with his trying to convert me and all."

            "I would like that very much, Lord Black; I'll see you in SLYTHERIN!"

            Harry took off the hat and made his way through the silent great hall to the Slytherin table.  He sat down next to the ghost he recognized as the Bloody-Baron, nodding respectfully.  Then, he waited for the next person to be sorted.

            McGonagall, who had been staring at him in shock, shook herself and called the next person (Bones, Susan).

            Harry spaced out until Neville Longbottom was called.  The hat seemed to take ages to decide before putting him in HUFFLEPUFF!  (A/N: I have my reasons.)  Neville hopped off the stool (forgetting to take off the hat) and ran to the Hufflepuff table; half way there he ran back and gave the hat to MacDougal, Morag (who was sorted into Slytherin).

            When Draco went up the hat had barely to touch his head when SLYTHERIN! rang through the hall.

            Weasley (Curse the name!) made it into GRYFFINDOR! (No surprise).

            And finally, with Zabini, Blaise (Slytherin), the Sorting ended.  McGonagall rolled up her scroll, picked up the hat, and made her way out of the room.  Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, "Before the feast there are a few words I'd like to say, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!  Thank you—that is all"

            Draco looked at the man uncertainly and whispered to Harry "Is he a bit, mad?"

            "Yes."

            Draco nodded and they proceeded to dig into the feast.

            When the food finally disappeared, Dumbledore gave a warning speech and Harry's suspicions about the package were confirmed; it was at Hogwarts.

            And then a prefect shouted for the first years to follow him.  He led them to a stone wall down in the dungeons.

            "The password is 'Gold is Life'; don't forget it."

            Inside, Harry and the others gazed around a luxurious room done in subtle variations of silver and green.

            The Prefect, Bartleby Reginald, turned and faced the crowd of first years.  "Welcome to Slytherin house.  Our house is guided by one strict doctrine: Power is everything, and as first years you have no Power."  He paused for effect.  "As time passes, you will rise through the power structure.  If you do not, you will be shunned.  Do you understand?"

            The first years nodded.

            "Good now.  The Parkinson room is through that door, the Goyle room is there, Crabbe is next to it, Nott is behind the portrait of Samuel Nott—you'll have to think up a password, Zabini is through there," he said, pointing.  "Malfoy is behind the statue of Mortimer Malfoy, MacDougal is up the staircase and to the right." He looked at Harry. "There is no Black room, so you'll have to…"

            Harry, making his way toward the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, cut him off: "I am the last descendant of the Evans line, their rooms are here."

            The Prefect stood slack-jawed for a moment before nodding.  "Very well, good night."

            Harry bowed before the painting.  "_My lord," _he hissed quietly, _"I ask acceptance into my rooms."_

_            "My heir is always welcome," _came the reply and the painting swung to the side.  Harry, suddenly tired, gently picked up Oculi and set her down on his pillow.  Then, after undressing, he fell onto his bed, asleep before his body hit the mattress.__


	6. Conversations and Classes

Disclaimer: _"Let me rip, let me tear.  Blood, I SMELL BLOOD! _  But I don't own Harry Potter._" _

Author's notes: Thank you for your reviews; they pleased me greatly and now I feel like a million bucks (not that I know what a million bucks feels like). I LOVE YOU ALL!

Harry sat down in the Slytherin common room; it was around four o'clock in the morning, and no one was awake.  He settled comfortably into a chair and pulled out _Midnight Magic_, which he quickly became engrossed in.

            Severus Snape made his way down to the Slytherin common room; it was his custom to greet the students on the first day of classes—and to intimidate them into obedience.

            Harry had just finished chapter five in his book when he heard the sound of stones grating against each other.  He looked up and was surprised to see Severus Snape come through.  Rising out of his chair, he greeted him: "Hello, Professor."

            Professor Snape raised his eyebrows.  "Good morning, Mr. Black.  Why are you up so early?"

            "I'm an early riser."

            Snape nodded.  "As am I."

            They stood there for a moment in uncomfortable silence.  Then,

            "Sir, I would like to thank you for bringing my father's body back to his family."

            Snape was silent for a moment.  "It was the least I could do."

            Harry nodded, "Sir, why did he die?"

            "Excuse me?"

            "I know he was killed by Voldemort, but I don't why"

            Snape's face froze.  He looked around the common room and whispered, "The Dark Lord knew there was a spy in the ranks.  He captured your father in hope of revealing the spy.  Needless to say, the Dark Lord was not pleased when he refused.  He tortured him to the brink of death and then he gave him to me…. The Dark Lord already suspected me…after all, I was teaching in Hogwarts.  I performed the _Cruor Hostis_ ceremony and then I killed him."

            "The 'Blood of the enemy' ritual?"

            "We hated each other in school; it was enough to perform the ceremony."

            "In death…honor."

            "Yes."

            "Thank you."

            Snape nodded.

            "All right, everyone, pay attention.  You are all Slytherins, and you will behave as such.  Any quarrels you have with someone in the house will stay in the house—do you understand?"

            He waited for the nods before continuing: "With regard to their interactions with students of other houses, I try to be a little tolerant with my Slytherins.  If I don't hear anything, it didn't happen.  But if you get caught by another teacher, you will face the consequences."  Again the nods.  "Good.  Now go to breakfast and remember: Slytherin must present a cold face to the rest of the school; do not let them see weakness."  The older years nodded, but most of the first years looked confused.

            "Why do you think he said that?"

            Harry turned around and saw Draco standing there.  "I'd think that obvious."

            "Well I don't."

            Harry snorted, "Slytherin has always been the hated house, the feared, the ridiculed.  Therefore, we have to stick together—even if we hate each other.  In public, we must be as one."

            "Oh, that was obvious, wasn't it?"

            "Lets go to breakfast.  I memorized the way last night"

The first week of classes was…eventful, to say the least.  And many of Harry's classmates were upset to find out that there was more to magic than saying a few silly words and waving a wand about.

Astronomy was taught in the tallest tower on Wednesdays (technically Thursdays since the classes were taught at midnight after all).

They had to go out to the greenhouses three times a week to attend Herbology, a class that was taught by an exceptionally dirty woman named Professor Sprout.

History of Magic was the only class taught by a ghost and was quite boring; most people had trouble staying awake.

Charms was taught by a man so short that he had to stand on a pile of books just to see the top of his desk and who seemed to have a particular soft spot for Harry (which, Harry suspected, was rooted with his mother).

The formidable Professor McGonagall taught Transfiguration.  On the first day after she called roll, she turned her desk into a giant pig and then back again.  After that, they took complicated notes, and then she gave them a match that they were to turn into a needle.  By the end of class, Harry was the only one who had accomplished this—his grandmother had already taught him what she knew about the subject—and Slytherin was awarded ten points.

The class that everyone had looked forward to most was Defense against the Dark Arts.  (Draco Malfoy could be heard in the common room shouting, "Why do we need to know how to defend against them?!")  However, they soon found it to be a joke.  Professor Quirrell, who taught the class, was afraid of his own shadow (even going so far as to have no light in his classroom so he could avoid seeing it, or only to have a light in front of him so that it would be behind him).  Needless to say, the students quickly dismissed him as a fraud.

  And then it was Friday.

"What do we have today, Harry?"

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors."

"Doesn't Snape teach potions?"

"Yes.  According to the rumor mill, he favors the Slytherins, so this class should be enjoyable to say the least."

   The Potions classroom was in the Dungeons.  It was a dark, dank place devoid of all warmth except for that given off by the cauldron fires.  They shuffled in, the Slytherins on the left and the Gryffindors on the right.  The Gryffindors shifting around nervously, while the Slytherins sat on their uncomfortable chairs as if they were thrones.

Suddenly Snape swept into the room and made his way to the front of the class.   After telling them to put away their wands, he started calling roll.  He made it through the Slytherins quickly, but when it came to the Gryffindors he took time to comment.

"Hmmm, another Weasley…probably as incompetent as the rest."

Harry could barely contain his laughter.

"Weasley!"  Snape proceeded to ask questions that no regular first year could know, after which, he smirked: "Tut, tut, Weasley, didn't you even think to open a book before coming to Hogwarts?"

_Yes, _Harry thought, _this'll be a very enjoyable class. _

Author's notes: The "Blood of the Enemy" ritual is a very old custom, dating back to when nominal enemies were often in fact friends (for example, competing families that had intermarried).  It was created to give the ill or infirm honorable deaths (at the hands of their enemy with their enemy's blood on their hands).  The ceremony is a short one, which can only end in death.

In the case of Severus and Sirius, Severus put a dagger in Sirius's hand and impaled himself on it.  He then positioned the dagger over Sirius's heart and drove it through, giving his enemy an honorable death.


	7. Hagrids Hut

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Thank you for the Reviews!

"Where are you going?"

"I told Hagrid that I'd visit him today."

"See you later then."

"I'll be in the common room by five."

"Goodbye."

Harry knocked on the door of the hut…if a hut is what you'd call it; it was a rather large building, made of wood, and all in all perfect for Hagrid.

Harry heard a loud barking and Hagrid saying, "Back Fang, back."

The door opened a crack and Hagrid's face appeared. "Jus' a minute."

He closed the door again, there was a loud clunking noise, and it opened again. "All righ' come in."

"Thank you for inviting me."

"S'no problem, not at all."

Harry sat down on the couch next to Fang, who promptly began to slobber all over his robes. Harry absentmindedly stroked his head.

"So Hagrid, how have you been?"

The mans face lit up: "Well, been 'avin trouble wit' Fluffy."

"Isn't Fluffy your three headed dog?"

"Yeah. Anyway, he's getting restless."

"Why?"

"Well I lent 'im to Professor Dumbledore to guard the…." He stopped and looked at Harry suspiciously. "What are yeh up to?"

Harry put on an innocent expression. "Why would I be up to something?"

"The las' time you said tha' I nearly lost my job."

"Well then, no worries. I will not make you lose your job."

"Good."

"Now…what is Fluffy guarding?"

"Oh, he's guarding the…. Hey!"

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, I had to try."

"S'all right. Yer dad did the same thing."

"I don't doubt that from what my Grandmother has told me about him."

"Aye, a rowdy lad…dependable though," he smiled fondly, "an' you're the spittin' image of 'im." He straitened a bit and asked, "So…how're things in Slytherin?"

"Enjoyable. I have a room to myself, with a password so no one can get in. It's also fun watching Snape make the Gryffindors squirm."

Hagrid broke into laughter. "Exactly like your mother; she'd a been proud of yeh."

"Thank you."

Hagrid waved it off. "So you enjoyin' your classes?"

Harry nodded: "Except for the fact that I've already learned what we're learning."

Hagrid looked thoughtful. "Why don't yeh go to the library and check out the advanced books? I know that your Granma refused to teach you light magic above the fifth year."

"True, and after I learn all that, I'll ask Snape for a pass to the restricted section."

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Now don' go lookin' for trouble."

"Hagrid, have you ever known me to go looking for trouble?"

"Yeh, an' I nearly got sacked—remember that?"

Harry sighed, "Yes, I remember that."

"Hagrid, I need you to watch him while I make the final arrangements. Don't let him out of your sight."

_ "Sure thing, Professor Dumbledore. Yer not still givin' 'im to the muggles, are yeh?"_

_ "Yes, Hagrid, I am; they are his only family, and he'll be protected there."_

_ "But sir…yeh know Lily was adopted! 'An yeh know what those muggles are like! Disgustin' creatures, they are…"_

_ "I never thought I'd see you spouting off the same phrases as Lucius Malfoy."_

_ "In this case, 'e's right! I met 'em, remember? They hate magic!"_

_ "He is going to live with them…and that is the last I'll speak of this matter."_

_ "All righ' but he won' thank yeh."_

_ Albus Dumbledore looked down on Harry. "Stay with Hagrid and do as he says."_

_ He turned back to Hagrid and failed to notice the little hands that entered his pocket._

**An hour later**

_"…An' tha's how I stopped the kelpies from eatin' the students…what did yeh think o' that, Harry?" He turned around. "Harry?"_

_ But he was nowhere to be found._

**Twenty minutes later**

_ Harry slowly walked down the corridor, a bell rang, and he quickly ducked into a nearby closet. Harry peered out of it and saw the tall white-haired man and the giant man walking down the hallway._

_ "I told you to keep an eye on him."_

_ "Sorry Professor. I turned aroun' for jus' a minute, and then 'e was gone."_

_ Harry waited until they had passed the closet. Then he barged out and pointed the stolen wand at Dumbledore's back. _

_ Albus and Hagrid both turned around to discover the source of the noise, and both were startled to see the boy they were searching for with a very familiar wand pointed at them._

_ "Give me back my wand!"_

_ "Take me to my grandmother!"_

_ "No." Dumbledore approached Harry._

_ "Stay back," the little boy commanded, brandishing the wand. Dumbledore kept coming, and in desperation Harry cried out "**SERPENSORTIA**!" Out of the tip of the wand exploded an extremely large anaconda, which sped toward Dumbledore. It lunged at him, teeth bared, and was right on top of him when Hagrid jumped on top of it._

_ Harry was so surprised at this turn of events that he forgot about Dumbledore…until the old man grabbed the wand from Harry's hand and vanished the snake. Dumbledore turned to Hagrid: "I will take him to my office since he slipped away from you so easily. **Stupefy.**"_

"That was the first time I had ever been stunned."

"Aye…and yeh had to be stunned again after ya woke up cause you attacked Dumbledore again. Gave 'im a shiner, you did."

"Yes," Harry smiled, "I did."

"Well," he said, standing, "I've got to go"

"All righ' then. Visit me again soon."

Harry smiled. "I will."

And then he left.

A/N: Did you like it?


	8. Flying Duo

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.

Author's notes: Awesome! Look at all of my reviews! I love you guys!

Special thanks to The Vampire Story Hunter: read his stories! 

A month after classes started, a notice appeared on the bulletin board in the Slytherin common room:****

"Why do we always have classes with the Gryffindors? Why not the Ravenclaws?"

"The notice says that all of the houses are going to be in this class: is that normal?"

"I don't want a class with Gryffindors _and _Hufflepuffs!"

"Complain all you want; I'm looking forward to seeing Weasley fall off his broom."

Draco's eyes brightened. "It'd serve him right after that stunt he pulled in potions last week."

"That was actually pretty funny. I've never seen anyone as mad as Snape was when Weasley turned his hair blue and his robes pink."

"Yeah," Draco sighed in pleasure, "that was great."

"Hmmm…"

"Well…shall we go?"

"All right."

Harry and Draco made their way out onto the grounds (followed, of course, by Malfoy's idiot bodyguards, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle).

They walked over to where the brooms were layed out and stood beside them. They were quickly joined by the rest of the students.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, a middle-aged witch of medium height, short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk, arrived shortly after the last of the students.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded. "Stand beside a broom."

The people who had not already done so did.

"Now put your hand over the broom and say, 'Up.'"

"UP!"

Harry's broom jumped immediately into his hand. His was the only one that did. Draco's rose up on the third try and Weasley's went up on the fifth, while others, like a brown-haired Gryffindor girl's and Neville Longbottom's, didn't move at all.

"Good. Now mount your brooms. Hurry up then!"

They mounted and waited for Madam Hooch to tell them if they were doing it right. Draco was very displeased when he was told off for holding it wrong.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off, hover above the ground a few seconds, and then head back down."

She started to count down from ten, but before she reached 'two' Neville Longbottom, out of sheer nerves, kicked off. His broom shot up like a snitch, and he let out a wail, "GET ME DOWN!"

"Draco, kick off now!"

"Why?"

"NOW!"

Harry rose from the ground followed closely (albeit reluctantly) by Draco.

"Boys, Boys, where are you going!?"

The duo quickly caught up to Neville and flew on either side of him, at which point they grabbed hold of his arms and hauled him off of the bucking broom.

On the ground, they were set upon immediately by Madam Hooch: "What were you thinking? You could have been hurt! What if you had dropped him?"

She paced a bit, muttering to herself. Then her head shot up and she said, "Black, Malfoy…come with me…we're going to see Professor Snape."

Draco looked at Harry, horrified, making sure they had heard the same thing. Harry just shrugged and followed Madam Hooch.

As they made their way down to Snape's dungeon, Draco began to hyperventilate.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

"What if we get expelled?"

"We won't get expelled. If she were going to expel us, she'd take us to Dumbledore. Moreover, according to Hogwarts Rules and Regulations, a first year student cannot be expelled, so we have nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"I hope you're right."

"I am."

"If you're not and I get disowned, I'll kill you."

"You can't kill me until I beget an heir."

Draco looked taken aback. Then, he grinned faintly. "Fine. After you beget an heir, I'll kill you."

Madam Hooch knocked on Snape's door. When he opened the door, his gaze fell immediately on the boys. He sighed, "What did they do?"

Madam Hooch smiled. "You know how you've been complaining about Pucey and Higgs?"

"Yes."

"I found you perfect replacements!"

"Explain."

"Malfoy here is the perfect seeker; he's a bit slight in build, and his turns are sharp. Black is the perfect chaser: I haven't seen anyone handle a broom like he did since his mother played, Severus!" she said. When he looked less than convinced, she insisted, "These boys managed to make two hundred-year-old brooms go faster than a Clean Sweep Seven!"

"Did they?" He looked at them with raised eyebrows. "Interesting."

He seemed to deliberate before turning back to Hooch: "If what you say is true, then we can't afford to lose this opportunity. The only problem is the Headmaster…he's the one who created the 'First Year Rule.'"

"Professor," Harry interjected, "just tell him that you've heard me express my hatred of him, and that allowing me to play with my kinsman may endear him to me."

Snape nodded. "Thinking like a Slytherin…good; I think it'll work. You both can get brooms, right?"

They nodded.

"Very well. Your classes are at an end for today. You're free to go…boys," he called as they turned to go. "Don't get into any more trouble."

"Yes sir."

"I can't believe it! Seeker! My father is going to be so proud."

Harry grunted.

"What about your grandmother?"

"What?"

"Will she be proud of you?"

"Anything to bring glory to the House of Black."

"Father too probably. Ha! Wait until Weasley hears about this!"

"Isn't it a bit immature to base your life around Weasley and his reaction when you prove you're better at something than him?"

"Hypocrite."

"Not so. I enjoy Weasley's upset expressions as much as you, but I don't rely on them to live as you seem to."

"It's not my fault…. He turns really funny colors."

"True."

"H-Harold?"

Harry looked up and saw Neville fidgeting nervously. "Hello, Neville. What can I do for you?"

"I-I just wanted to say thank you."

"It wasn't a problem."

Neville nodded and turned to go.

"Oh and Neville?"

"Y-yes?"

"Call me 'Harry.'"

A smile brightened the boys face. "Okay…Harry."

**Author's Note:** Hello everybody! I was wondering if you could tell me what particular pairings you want to see, though I may disregard certain suggestions. I value your opinions.


	9. Confrontations

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I am putting to rest some of the worries that people have had. There will be no romance until Harry is capable of hormonally induced responses (i.e. has started to go through puberty).

_Kage Mirai_: I don't think I'll be using that particular pairing in this story. If you have any secondary ships in which Draco is concerned, I'll be happy to use them.

_This is dedicated to the very perceptive reviewer, uten._

"So, Black, did they expel you? Are you packed?"

Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Weasley's ugly face. "Why would I be expelled? All I did was save a classmate from an out-of-control broom."

Weasley's face reddened. "You think you're so smart? How about a Wizards duel? Then we'll see who's smarter."

Harry stood up. "Weasley, am I to understand that _you_ are challenging _me_?"

"Yes—don't you know what a Wizards Duel is?" he asked sneering.

Harry sighed. "Very well. I, Harold Ophiuchus, Dominus Black, of the lines Black and Evans, do accept the challenge set forth by Ronald Weasley, Oath Breaker..." he paused. "Draco Lucian Malfoy, of the lines Malfoy and Black, is my second. Yours?"

Weasley turned around and sized up his two cronies: "Dean." The tall black boy nodded his acceptance.

"Good. As the Challenged I name rules. The duel will take place tonight at midnight in the secondary trophy room. There will be no contact—wands only. Do you accept?"

Weasley nodded.

"Good. Now go away."

After they left, Draco turned to Harry: "Do you think he'll go through with it?"

"He's a Gryffindor; they aren't usually very smart. He'll be there."

Draco smirked, "Don't go easy on him."

Harry smirked back, "I don't intend to."

"Where are they?"

Harold shrugged. "They'll be here."

Suddenly the door slammed open, and Weasley and Thomas sauntered in.

"You're late."

"I am not."

"Whatever you say…. Shall we get started?"

"If you're not to scared."

Harry took off his cloak and handed it to Draco. Then he stepped into the circle that he and Draco had drawn. "Are you prepared?"

Weasley nodded. "I am."

Harry nodded at Draco, who took out his wand and pointed it at the ceiling. "Three, two, one!"

Fire shot out of his wand, and Harry pointed his wand at Weasley: "_Brevis Dolor!" _

Weasley gasped and fell to his knees, where he pointed his wand at Harry and…shot sparks at him.

"Is that really all you know?" Harry sighed. "_Stupefy."_

Weasley fell flat on his face, and Thomas rushed forward brandishing his wand.

_"Stupefy."_

Thomas fell to the floor.

As they left the room, Draco said, "I thought you weren't going easy on them!"

The next morning, Harry and Draco were greeted by the sight of two very bruised Gryffindors.

"Well, Weasley, I must say this is a vast improvement on your usual looks," Draco said, while Harry chuckled quietly to himself.

"Sod off!" The red-haired boy then turned around and tripped over his robes, falling flat on his face…again.

Harry's raucous laughter echoed around the Hall. Everyone looked at the Slytherin table, surprised that the usually withdrawn boy was laughing so merrily.

"May I ask what is so funny, Mr. Black?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and, gasping for air, pointed at Weasley.

"You find your classmate's misfortune funny."

Harry, still laughing, said, "Yes!"

Dumbledore frowned, "I think I need to see you after classes today."

Harry straightened. "Yes, sir."

Harry's merry gaze shifted to its normal blandness the minute Dumbledore left the hall. He let out a cold chuckle. "Old fool."

Draco looked at him shocked: "You were faking it!"

"Of course."

"But it sounded so real!"

"I am an excellent actor."

"You actually want to see Dumbledore?!" he asked incredulously. "Why?"

"It's time to show him my true face."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He thinks that he has me in his grasp, that I will bow to his wishes…. I will show him how wrong he is; he will know that the Black family bows to no one."

"You're worse than my father sometimes, with all your talk of family honor."

"Draco, the honor of the family is second in importance only to the continuation of the family. Your father is in the right."

"I suppose…but isn't it unwise to show Dumbledore your hand."

"No. I wish for him to live with the fear that someday I will avenge myself upon him."

"Isn't it a bit extreme? I mean, sure, he tried to put you with muggles…"

"He did put me with muggles," Harry said darkly, "for eight months."

"What did they do to you?"

He received no response.

Harry walked up to the stone Gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. He tried the password that Snape had given him (Chocolate Frogs), but it didn't open. After a few minutes of trying different candies (in case he had heard wrong), he leaned in and hissed in Parseltounge, _"As the last Heir of Slytherin, I demand that you open."_ The Gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a revolving staircase, which, when Harry stepped onto it, began to move. At the top was a rather large door. Harry knocked firmly.

"Come in, Harry."

Harry opened the door and walked over to the chair in front of the large desk. "Sir, I have not given you leave to address me as such. You may continue to call me, 'Mr. Black.'"

Dumbledore sighed sadly, "Can you not forgive an old man his mistake, Harry?"

"If you refuse to address me as 'Mr. Black,' then perhaps you would be more comfortable calling me 'Dominus Black,' which I can by right insist upon."

"Harry…"

Harry rose out of his chair, eyes cold. "You will address me as Dominus Black."

"Harry, you must know that I meant no harm. I truly believed you were James Potter's son."

Harry glared at the man. When he spoke his voice was hard: "Do you know how long it took my grandmother to remove the Glamorie you placed on me? I looked like James Potter until I was seven-years-old! So don't try to lie to me, old man. And, for the last time, you will address me as 'Dominus Black'!"

"Very well, _Dominus Black_. You are dismissed."

Harry sneered and slammed the door on his way out.

"So how did it go?"

"He didn't even mention my behavior in the Great Hall"

"So what happened?"

"He isn't aware that I'm plotting vengeance, but he definitely knows that I abhor him."

"Is that good?"

"Yes."

"Oh, okay…. Do you want to go to dinner now?"

"No, you go ahead; I'm just going to get some sleep."

"All right."

Harry collapsed on his bed. Oculi hissed her displeasure when he threw the covers aside.

_"Master is upset. Why?"_

"The fool made me angry." 

_"Should I kill him, Master?"_

_"No—that would create a whole new set of problems. We will just lie in wait. Like the sand snake, we will not strike until our prey is one step away from stepping on us."_

_"But I don't want to be a sand snake."_ There was a whine in the basilisk's hiss.

Harry chuckled: _"I said we will act '**like** the sand snake,' not that we will **be** sand snakes."_

"As long as I don't have to be one." 

_"You don't," _he reassured her. _"Good night."_ He kissed the tip of her snout, and they both fell asleep.__


	10. Blood Magic and Purity

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  I wish with all my heart that I did, but, alas, if wishes were pies I'd be larger than I already am.  Once again, I've included passages from the original text.

Author's Note: Thank you to all the people who have reviewed! Eighty-three!

Author's Note#2: I don't ship Hermione. "LIBERTY OR DEATH, WHAT WE SO PROUDLY HAIL 

_ONCE YOU PROVOKE HER, RATTLING OF HER TAIL_

_NEVER BEGINS IT, NEVER, BUT ONCE ENGAGED…_

_NEVER SURRENDERS, SHOWING THE FANGS OF RAGE"_

            -"Don't Tread On Me," _Metallica_ (The Black Album), Metallica (Doesn't that just describe a Slytherin?)

Halloween morning found Harry and Draco sitting in the Great Hall…early for once (Draco had woken up on time).  Just as they were finishing, Hedwig, the beautiful snowy owl Hagrid had given Harry, flew down holding a package shaped like a broomstick.  _It's here! _Harry thought excitedly. Hedwig dropped it into his outstretched hands before hurrying back into the Owlery.  (She had the uncanny ability of sensing when he had Oculi on his arm). Harry tapped Draco on the shoulder and nodded toward the doors.

They made their way out of the Great Hall and were right about to descend down to the Dungeons when Weasley, Finnigan, and Thomas stopped them.

"What have you got there?" Ron demanded.

"I can't see that is any of your business, Weasley."

"Let me see it!"  He snatched it out of Harry's hands.  "This is a Broomstick!" he cackled with glee.  "Now nothing will stop you from getting expelled!"

"Give it back!" Harry demanded.

A woman's voice sounded in the corridor: "What's going on?"

Harry looked behind him and saw Professor McGonagall standing there, her face stern.

Weasley, ever the idiot, grinned at the sight of his head-of-house.  "Professor, Black has a Broomstick."  He presented the package to her.

She took it into her hands and felt along its length.  "Yes…definitely a broomstick…what model?" she asked Harry curiously.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, I believe; that's the one Grandmother said she'd send me."

"Madam Hooch told me of your skill on a broom.  Maybe now that there are players who can actually fly in a straight line there won't be so much cheating."

She handed him the broom and said, "Your parents would be proud, they were both chasers—on different teams of course."  And with a smile she left.

"Wow.  So both of your parents were chasers?"

"Apparently."

"You don't know?"

"McGonagall said they were; she's not the type to lie."

"Oh, all right… What are we doing again?"

"We're listening to Flitwick explain how to levitate objects using to standard levitation spell."

"_Wingardium Leviosa_?"

"Yes."

"Oh…wake me up when we're allowed to use magic."

"All right."

A few minutes later: "…and flick.  Pronunciation is quite important as well!  Remember the Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry cuffed Draco sharply over the head, drawing a glare from the other boy.  Then he pointed his wand at the feather.  A swish, a flick, and a muttered "_Wingardium Leviosa"_ later, the feather was floating upwards.

"Oh look!  Mr. Black has done it!  Oh and Ms. Granger!  Ten points each!"

Harry looked at the brown-haired Gryffindor.  She always seemed to master the spells quickly, much as Harry had when his grandmother had taught him.  He smiled; there was definitely more to Granger than met the eye.

"Did you hear?  Granger is in the bathroom crying.  Filthy mudblood finally realized that no one likes her…"

Harry listened to Pansy's babble for a while longer before tuning her out.  His attention was devoted solely to his food until the Great Hall doors slammed open and Professor Quirrell came running in, shouting at the top of his lung, "TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS.  TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!"   He broke off with a hysterical sob and fainted.

The Hall burst out screaming and everyone scrambled to escape the room.

There was an explosion from the tip of Dumbledore's wand, and the Hall fell silent.  "Prefects, lead your houses to your common rooms.  The teachers and I will deal with the troll."

"Draco…wait," Harry said.

"Why?  There's a troll!  We should go with the prefects!"

"Draco, first of all, the Slytherin Common Room is in the Dungeon.  Second, the only way to get to the Great Hall from the Dungeons is through one of the secondary entrance ways, definitely not the Main Entrance!"

"What's your point?"

"My point is that we are going to the third floor corridor to head off Quirrell.  I don't know what's in there, but I'll be damned if someone besides me steals it!"

"Which translates into, 'I want whatever's in there, so he can't have it'?"

"Naturally."

Draco sighed, "Fine, but we better not get caught."

"Good.  Follow me."

 On the second floor, they encountered Snape.

"What are you two doing here?" he demanded.

"Were trying to sto—"

Harry stomped on his foot "—Nothing, sir."

Snape, noticing the interaction, smiled.  "Have you seen anything suspicious?"

"A man fainting backwards."

"What?"

"When a person faints, they fall forward, always."

Snape's eyes lit up.  "Ah…I see."

"Yes sir.  The only way you can get past Fluffy is by playing music to him."

"Eh?"

"I'm assuming you want to check the third floor?"

"Oh…Fluffy…of course.  Thank you.  Mr. Black, Mr. Malfoy, you should head to your common room now."

They both nodded and fled.

Harry and Draco ran towards the stairs, but they came to an abrupt stop when they heard a scream from the girls bathroom.

"That's Granger; we should go and save her."

"And risk _our_ necks?  I think not."

"Think of all the points we could earn."

"No."

Harry sighed.  "Very well, you go tell McGonagall that the troll is now in the second floor girls bathroom."

"Fine."  With that he strolled down the hall.

"Coward," Harry muttered as he ran toward the girls bathroom.

He nearly fainted when he entered the bathroom: the stench was horrible!

First He saw the troll happily pounding away at the toilets.  He then saw Granger cowering behind a broken sink.  He noticed that her wand hand was bleeding.  Suddenly his earlier suspicions came to him and he was struck by an idea:

"Granger!"

She looked at him fearfully, a question in her eyes.

"Granger, take out your wand and cover it in your blood."

She obeyed him, as she would a teacher.

"Good, now point your wand at the troll and say, '_Morere_'!"

He could see the shock in her eyes: "Yes…you know what it means."

She glanced at him once more, and then she raised her wand and shouted, "_Morere!_"

A black and red light shot out of her wand and enveloped the troll.  A second later, it fell to the ground with a mighty "CRASH."  When the dust cleared, Harry walked over to Hermione and smiled happily.  "I knew I was right!"

Granger gave a little sniffle.  "About what?"

"About you being a pureblood…" he paused and considered his words "…at least partly.  We'll have to change that."

"B-but, my parents are Muggles, _Dentists!_"

Harry nodded thoughtfully and was about to ask a question when three teachers burst in.

McGonagall was the first to recover: "What happened?"

Hermione was about to answer when Harry interrupted.

"I got lost as I was heading for the first floor.  I heard a scream, ran into the bathroom, and I saw the troll with his club raised standing over her.  I rushed over and, in my hurry to get her up, I cut myself and got blood on my wand…"

McGonagall noticed that he had no cuts.  Nor did he have his wand out.  She was about to tell him off for lying to her, but he cut her off with a glare and an almost imperceptible nod toward Professor Quirrell.  Having known his father, she accepted this (though she vowed to get to the bottom of his suspicion of Professor Quirrell).

"…I cast the Stupefying spell, but, as you can see, it was a lot stronger than usual."

McGonagall again accepted this with a nod and muttered, "Both of you in my office at ten o'clock tonight."  Then in a louder voice: "It was a brave thing you did, Mr. Black.  Ten points to Slytherin for saving the life of one of your classmates."  She looked at the troll with disgust.  "Both of you, off to your common rooms."  She gave Harry a look and muttered, "Just wait in my office."

Harry nodded and grabbed Granger's arm.  "I'll escort her to her common room."

"Yes—" this time it was Snape who spoke up— "Thank you, Mr. Black."

"This isn't the way to the Gryffindor common room."

"I know.  McGonagall wants us to meet her in her office."

"Oh…. What did you mean about me being a Pureblood?"

"You used Blood Magic; you're most definitely a Pureblood.  If a Mudblood attempted to cast a Blood Magic spell, they would die…especially Command Blood Magic."

"I don't understand; what's 'Blood Magic'?"

"It's magic that requires the user to sacrifice his or her own blood.  The blood has to be centuries old to use blood magic."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"Of course!  Anything that the Mudbloods can't do is banned by the Ministry."

"But…Professor Dumbledore told me that Mud-" she paused and grimaced "—that _Muggle-Borns _could do anything Purebloods could."

"Dumbledore cannot be trusted.  Why do you think the Dark Arts are banned?  Because most of them require the user to have Wizarding blood.  The Killing Curse?  It would rebound on any mudblood who tried to use it.  The Stabbing Hex?  The same results.  Dumbledore hates old magic; he uses only the magic that you could teach any common Mudblood.  Light Magic, indeed!  Did you know that the first spell to be labeled 'light' was one that made the target unable to breath?  It's called the Suffocation Hex…. They teach it to third years."  Harry stopped his rant.

"But all of that is beside the point… Dumbledore lied; you are a Pureblood.  And we are now at McGonagall's office."

Hermione looked up, startled.  She had been mulling over his announcements and hadn't even seen where her feet were taking her.

Professor McGonagall came in twenty minutes later and sat behind her desk.  She gazed at the students before her.  "Now," she said, "would you like to tell me what really happened, Mr. Black?"

"Yes Ma'am.  I've suspected for a while that Granger is actually a Pureblood, so when I walked into the bathroom and noticed that her hand was bleeding I told her to smear blood on her wand and say, '_Morere._'"

"It worked. So what do you plan to do now?"

"I will remove all Muggle impurities and then take her under my wing.  Once she is trained, she will be a powerful ally."

"Do you intend to marry her?"

"No.  My grandmother has already chosen my betrothed… I don't know who, but I know it isn't her."

"How could I possibly be a Pureblood?" Hermione suddenly asked, incredulous.

McGonagall got up and paced for a while.  She then turned to Granger: "What's your mother's name, child?" she asked kindly.

"Abigail Granger."

" I meant her maiden name."

"Oh.  It's Euric."

McGonagall nodded thoughtfully. "Has she ever lived in a town called Orleans?"

"Um…no, but my grandmother was from there.  She moved to England during the Great War."

"Then you most certainly are a Pureblood…well, half-blood until Mr. Black removes your muggle traits."

"But…why would I want to be a Pureblood?"

Harry spoke up: "The name 'Granger' means nothing in the Wizarding world.  The Eurics, however, are a well-known family, who have ties in both France and Britain.  They originated in Ireland about three thousand years ago, moved to France about two thousand years ago, consorted with the Great Kings of France…that's where the name 'Euric' comes from.  They deteriorated into a Squib line about two hundred years ago, and they disappeared about sixty years ago.  Their fortune is currently in trust, waiting for an heir…you… and they are a hell of a lot richer than the Malfoys."

"Aren't you friends with Malfoy?"

"We are more allies than anything else—kinsmen."

"So the Eurics are richer than the Malfoys?"

"Yes."

"How do you know so much about them?"

"The Blacks have a significant presence in France, so I had to learn about all of the old French families, their positions, politics, and origins…but back to the point: if you took the name "Euric," you would have instant standing; the Minister would cower at your feet…though," he said thoughtfully, "he cowers at the feet of anyone who comes from a family older than his."

"How old is his family?"

"Just around two hundred years old; he's practically a muggle."

"Are there any other benefits?"

"Money…with the amount of money you have at you fingertips, you could have your family living like kings."

"But according to Pureblood law, I'd have to give it all to my husband…should I find one."

"Not so.  My grandmother is a Black.  As the oldest, she claimed the right of consort and married a younger son of the Parkinson line.  She then put a type of Blood Purification on my father to remove all traces of the Parkinson family.  She might as well have produced asexually… It's a common practice among the old families who abide by the old laws.  First born inherits," he added, seeing her confusion.

Granger seemed to ponder all of this, before shaking her head in frustration.  "It won't kill me?"

            "No, it won't kill you."

            "Do it then."

            "Very well."  He looked at Professor McGonagall.  "We'll do it here.  Give our excuses and don't tell the Headmaster!"

            "All right."

            "Swear."

            "I give my solemn oath as Head of the Clan McGonagall.  By the name of my father, Morgle McGonagall, I swear to hold what has transpired here in silence."

            Harry nodded, "Thank you."

            She got up out of her seat, said, "Good luck," and left.

            Harry turned toward Hermione, "Let's get started."


	11. Blood Magic and Purity Part:2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews!

"The ritual we will use is an ancient one that will require us to disrobe."

Hermione (as he had begun to think of her) stared: "We have to be naked!?"

"Of course. You have to be naked for all the purifying rituals."

"There is more than one?"

"Of course. They have ones to cleanse a person of Black Magic, disease, a lot of things!"

"Oh…what's in this for you?"

"Truly?"

She nodded.

"I want a friend. Draco is a fine companion, but he will always bow to my wishes. My family has been around for more than four thousand years, on both sides. The Malfoys have only existed for fifteen hundred years…" he paused and sighed. "The Eurics, on the other hand, have been around for three-thousand years, so you are a near equal in family presence. They have amassed a great wealth in both Britain and France, so there is no monetary envy. And…to put it bluntly…Draco is an idiot; I need someone to talk to who can talk about something besides his or herself—" he smiled at her "—and I've chosen you."

"Oh," she said in a tiny voice. "If I were a Mudbl…a Muggle-born, would you still do this?"

"Unlikely, but if you were a Mudblood, I'd have never noticed you."

"Oh…fine…we better get undressed."

When they were both naked, Harry began explaining things.

"The words of the ritual are not specifies; they just have to tell the Magic what to do, so we can use English. We'll also need to slit your palms; I have a boot knife we can use. Any questions so far?"

"What are the physical effects?"

"It will remove any traces of Muggle heritage, so I imagine, if what I read about the Euric family is true, your front teeth will shrink to a normal size, your hair will darken and become more manageable, and you'll also be paler."

Her eyes lit with understanding: "So I'll look like my mother?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's not bad at all; she's beautiful." She giggled a bit. "All the male patients at their dentistry request her."

He smiled, "Let's get started then. Place your hands next to one another with your palms up."

She nodded her consent, and he pressed the knife to her palms.

The blood started to seep out. He placed the tips of their wands on each cut.

_Blood Impure_

_Become Pure_

A glow of magic shined from the pooling blood.

_Blood of the Common_

_Become that of the Lord_

The blood began to creep up the wands.

_Blood not Magic_

_Magic take hold_

Her skin began to shine. Her veins were pulsing.

_Remove traces of the Father_

_The Mother's child, pure_

There was a flash of light and the blood pulsing on the wand shot back down to her palms.

_So mote it be._

Hermione looked at herself in Professor McGonagall's full-length mirror. _Not bad_, she thought admiringly. Her hair had straitened and was now a dark brown—almost black, her lips were pale pink and fuller, and she was now almost paler than Bla-_Harry _she reminded herself, and that was saying something!

She was interrupted from her musing when Harry said, "You might want to get dressed; we have classes tomorrow."

"What will I tell people about my change in appearance? They will definitely notice."

"Tell them that knowledge is power and they are powerless. In the meantime, you will explain the change to your parents. You may borrow my owl. I will also begin to teach you Pureblood etiquette, after I get my other pupil."

"What?"

"I have begun to befriend Neville Longbottom; he is of a good sort."

"Oh…I like Neville, but isn't he already a Pureblood?"

"From what I've heard, his Grandmother, Uncles, and Aunts have been trying so long to startle magic out of him that they forgot about his education."

"Why are you going to be friends with him?"

Harry sighed, "I owe him a blood debt…The Blacks and the Longbottoms swore Brotherhood five hundred years ago at the end of the Giant Wars. My cousin Bellatrix and her husband broke that Brotherhood when they drove his family to insanity. I will restore it."

"So you're going to be friends to restore your family honor?"

"No. They were Lestranges; it put no taint on our name. However, they were still family, and debts carry…but I really just want to continue tradition. My father was friends with his father, my grandfather was friends with his grandfather, my great…well, you get the point."

"Yes, I do."

She now had her clothes on. "I'll see you in the morning." She giggled, "I can't wait to see everyone's faces!"

"Come and sit with me at the Slytherin table and then see their faces."

She laughed, "I will."

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry."

The next morning people were indeed shocked, and even more so when this strange girl they had never seen before sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Hello, Harry."

He nodded from behind the paper. "Hermione."

"Can I borrow that after you're done?"

"Of course." He finished the paper and handed it to her.

"Thank you."

"Who is this?" a petulant voice asked.

Harry turned around and saw Draco standing behind him. "Hello, Draco. This is my new friend Hermione Granger"

Draco looked shocked. "The Mudblood!?" he asked incredulously.

"Actually she was a Halfblood…until last night when I performed the _Purity Ritual_. Now she is a pureblood…of the Euric line."

"A…what?"

"She is a Pureblood."

"How is that possible?"

"It's magic."

"But…what…" he shook his head confusedly and stormed off.

"He doesn't look too happy."

Harry arched his eyebrow: "You think?"

She smiled: "As often as I can"

"Good. Let's go and collect Neville; we have joint Herbology with all four houses today."

"Okay."

"Hermione?"

"You recognized me!"

"Your eyes—what happened?"

"Harry performed a Purifying Ritual on me."

Neville turned wide eyes to Harry. "It takes a lot of magic to perform the ancient rituals!"

"Yes, well, let's go to Herbology, shall we?"

"What? Oh yes. I had forgotten."

"You're sure we have to use fertilizer 'B'?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear?"

"Yes."

"Will you allow me to teach you Pureblood Etiquette?"

Neville sighed "Yes, Harry, it's fertilizer—WHAT?"

"You already said yes."

**And Now,**

**Just because I love you…**

**…I won't give the next chapter away.**


	12. Quidditch and Curses

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Would that I did!

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! Also, I realize that I would get more reviews if I turned off the 'Block Anonymous Reviews,' but I would also lose my main way of getting new things to read.

"Draco, you have to eat!"

"Shut up Granger!" Draco snarled.

"Well," she gasped, "if you want to faint and fall off your broom, go right ahead!"

Draco muttered something about "overbearing women" and started to eat.

Hermione smiled and turned to Harry: "How did the meeting with the Headmaster go?"

Harry grunted, "The old fool wanted to congratulate me on making friends with people from other houses; then he told me that if I didn't stop hexing Weasley, I'd be banned from Quidditch."

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "How else are we supposed to spend our time away from the library?"

Harry smiled. "We lure him into the dungeons. Old Salazar placed so many privacy words that even Merlin would be hard pressed to find them all."

Hermione smiled but was cut off from replying when Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, stood up and yelled out, "Team! Suit up!"

Harry and Draco nodded toward Hermione and Neville, and then they left with the rest of the team.

"All right…we haven't lost to Gryffindor in more than four years; if we lose now, I'll have your hides, understand?" he smiled sadistically and the team gave hasty nods. "Good…let's go."

Harry stepped behind Marcus and Draco. The ceiling was shaking from all the noise. Suddenly a voice shouted out, "AND NOW THE SLYTHERIN TEAM!" They walked out to where the Gryffindors were already standing and faced Madam Hooch.

She smiled at Harry and said in a loud voice, "I want you to play a clean game." She seemed to be looking at Flint as she said this. He just smirked. "Now captains, shake hands."

The two boys approached each other and shook hands…sort of; it seemed to be more of a competition to see who could squeeze harder. They finally let go (the winner undecided) and went back to their respective teams.

Madam Hooch gave the signal to mount up, and with a blow of her whistle, they were off.

**"Quaffle is taken immediately by the Slytherin chaser, Harold Black! He's rushing toward the Gryffindor goal post. Come on Oliver! He goes in and—oh no! He makes it—ten points to Slytherin."**

Harry waited while the Keeper retrieved the Quaffle. Just as Wood was about throw it out, he rushed toward the goal post. Wood, caught off guard, dropped the Quaffle right into the Flint's waiting hands.

**"Wood drops the Quaffle, Flint catches and flies up toward the goals, he shoots…and Wood saves the Quaffle! Gryffindor now in possession! Katie Bell flying toward the Slytherin goal posts, Black approaching from behind…watch out, Katie!"**

Harry sidled up alongside Bell, who was shooting him nervous glances out of the corner of her eyes. She tried a few barrel rolls to lose him, and when that didn't work she tried to go faster. Just as she was getting ahead him, he gave a short burst of speed and grabbed the Quaffle right out of her arms.

**"Black has the Quaffle! He passes to Flint, who passes to third chaser—can never remember that bloke's name—who passes it back to Black…Black flies toward the goal post, shoots…and scores! Twenty—Zero Slytherin!"**

It continued like this for a while, and then Harry's broom gave a jerk. He tried to fly down, but his broom gave a bigger jerk. "Flint! Something is happening to my broom!" Flint tried to approach him, but as he got closer the broom started to buck up and down.

In the stands, Hermione and Neville were watching worriedly as Harry lost control of his broom.

"What's happening?"

Hermione shook her head fearfully: "It looks like a Jinx, a dark one."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know."

"Flint! Send a Bludger toward the Professors' box!"

"What? Why?"

"Because, you big idiot…" his broom twisted weirdly in the air "…only a teacher could possibly—oomph!" another jerk "…only a teacher could enchant a Nimbus!"

"If you're sure." He nodded towards the Beater. In a few seconds, Harry was on a calm broomstick again.

Draco, who had been looking for it during Harry's predicament, caught the Snitch just as Madam Hooch was about to call a penalty for the Bludger toward the stands.

"**And Malfoy catches the snitch! Slytherin wins—three hundred and fifty points to ten!"**

The Slytherin stands erupted into cheers. The rest of the school clapped half-heartedly (which is to say that only Hermione and Neville were clapping).

"How did you find this room anyway?" They were in a room very much like their own common rooms.

"It was the Slytherin common room for about a hundred years before the European Migration of Eleven-oh-Nine. This common room is notably smaller, as you can see."

"How'd did you find it?"

"The portrait of Slytherin told me."

"Oh. So do you know who was jinxing the broom?"

"Only three teachers could possibly have the ability to cast that jinx: Snape, Quirrell, and Flitwick"

"Flitwick?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"He's one of the most powerful wizards ever to walk this earth. He didn't get that way by studying only the light arts…but he wouldn't cast it. And Snape has too many connections to my family to have any motivation. That leaves Quirrell."

"But…he's an idiot!"

Hermione shook her head: "It makes perfect sense; at the match, the few times I looked at him, his eyes were always on you."

"Just as I thought."

"But why would he want to kill you?"

That question remained unanswered.

A/N: Did you like it?


	13. Hagrids Loose tongue and Going home

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I'M BACK! (Even though I never really left) Thank too everyone for the encouragement, I LOVE YOU ALL!

Author's Note #2: Some people have complained about my insulting Draco, Have no worries though; He'll prove himself eventually. Sorta.

Author's Note#3: Kinda short, Next Chappie will be up soon though.

"Are you sure the oaf even knows?"

"Draco, call Hagrid an oaf again, and I'll remove your reproductive organs."

Draco winced and cupped himself. "But still, how would he know?"

"Because Dumbledore tells him everything."

"And what makes you think he'd tell us?"

"Hagrid can't control himself; fluster him a bit, and he'll tell you anything."

"Oh. How do you know all of this?"

"Dumbledore has tried on several occasions to influence me to his way of thinking. When he did, my grandmother always had Hagrid watch over me."

"Your grandmother trusted your safety with the fool?"

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Draco's nether regions: "This is the last time I warn you Draco."

Draco whimpered and nodded rapidly.

Harry slid the wand back up his sleeve and said, "Good."

He then turned to the others: "Make sure Draco stays out of trouble while I talk to Hagrid."

_**Stars and more stars and more stars etc.**_

Harry pounded on Hagrid's door and was greeted by the sound of Fang's barking. Hagrid opened the door and beamed. " 'Arry! It's good to see you. Come in, come in!"

"Thank you, Hagrid."

"So what can I do you for?"

"I just wanted to ask you if you knew what was in the third floor corridor."

"Not tha' again. For the last time, tha's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!"

His eyes grew wide. "I shouldn't 'ave said tha'."

"Shouldn't have said what?"

"Shouldn't 'ave told you about Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone."

Hagrid's face turned red. " 'Arry! I told you not to do that to me anymore!" he cried.

Harry just waited for Hagrid to calm down. When he didn't, Harry went and poured him a drink. "Here you go Hagrid."

Hagrid grabbed it and downed it in one gulp. "Thanks, 'Arry."

"You're welcome."

"Now 'Arry, don' go talkin' bout what I told ya', okay?"

"All right, Hagrid."

Hagrid (trusting man that he was) sighed with relief. "So. How're classes?"

**STARS! and More Stars**

"Fluffy's guarding the Philosopher's stone"

"The what?"

Harry sneered at Draco, "What are you? A Muggle?"

Draco sneered back, "Just because I don't like to read like you and Granger, doesn't mean I'm a muggle."

"Draco, the Philosopher's stone is one of the most sought after magical objects in the Wizarding world. It will turn any metal into gold, and when you touch it to water it creates a potion called the 'Elixir of Life'…Guess what that does."

Draco, his eyes wide, ignored the sarcasm: "We have to steal it!"

"Draco," Harry sighed, "When will you learn? We don't 'steal'; we just conveniently forget to give it back after pocketing it."

"Fine, but when will we?"

"We have to wait until the right time, preferably when Quirrell goes after it."

"How do you know that Quirrell is going after it?"

Harry sighed. "Draco, do you ever pay attention? We _know_ that he's after the stone—we've collected more than enough evidence."

"Like what"

"The fact that he went to the Third floor corridor at Halloween, and the fact that I've seen him loitering by the third floor corridor in-between classes"

"You don't have to yell at me"

"I didn't yell, I rose my voice ever so slightly."

Draco rolled his eyes "Whatever."

Harry shook his head; the boy could be such an idiot sometimes.

**MORE STARS!**

"What time does the train arrive?"

"Noon"

"Alright, I'm going to back sleep then"

"Goodnight Draco"

Harry's other two companions uttered the same sentiments and watched as Draco snuggled into the seat.

Neville broke the silence, "What are you guys doing for the Holiday?"

"My Grandmother and I will probably exchange a few gifts and then go to bed."

Hermione clucked, "That's it? Well, this holiday I'm legally changing my name, exchanging gifts, and I'm going to lord over my cousins with my appearance"

Harry chuckled "And here we thought you were above such vanity"

Hermione rolled her eyes "I am not vain! I just don't like my cousins, and they were always very fond of making fun of my appearance" she pointed to her mouth where formerly buckteeth had resided.

"Ah…vengeance, _that_ I understand."

Hermione nodded primly and turned to Neville and asked, "What are you going to be doing?"

"We'll exchange gifts and then we'll visit my pa-…ah…my uncles"

Harry and Hermione- (who had discovered the secret behind Neville's living arrangements) exchanged glances (A/N: I know, I know, I used exchange a lot)

It was Hermione who spoke up "That's nice, Neville, I hope you have a good time."

He smiled, relieved that he had managed to cover for himself in time.

When the train finally stopped Harry shook Draco awake, picked up Oculi, called Hedwig to his shoulder, gathered up his luggage, and together the group made their way off the train.

Harry led his friends over to where he saw his grandmother sitting, "Hello Grandmother, I'd like to introduce you too my friends" he gestured at the children behind him "These are: Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger soon to be Euric"

Mrs. Black nodded at each of the students "My Grandson Has told me quite a bit about each of you, I hope that our families remain allies."

They nodded solemnly and then left, each promising to introduce their parents on the return journey.

Cassiopeia smiled at Harry, and gestured for him to follow.

"How was your term?" she asked as he fell in beside her

He grinned, "Well, lets see, first I used a blasting Hex on the youngest male Weasley, then I befriended Draco, I made it into Slytherin, Had a duel with Weasley in which I knocked both Weasley and His mudblood second out…" Harry paused "I already told you all of this in my letters"

She smiled, her regularly harsh face softening "I just want to hear you talk it's been lonely at the manor without you."

He embraced her with one arm "I missed you too"

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder "We're away from muggle eyes" she pulled out a galleon "Grab on"

Harry grabbed the galleon and in a swirl of color they were home

_Home_, he thought,_ it's good to be back._

Sorry about the length, new chapters will be released soon.


	14. Dreams and Gifts

Disclaimer: I own my body, the rest is hubris.

Author's Note: Hello! Thanks for the Reviews I love you all! (Gives everyone a hug and a very wet kiss, thus creeping them out)

Author's Note#2: There is a bit of angst in this chapter, I live a pretty happy life so forgive me if it sucks.

Author's Note#3: I was (trying) to finish one of my X-men stories, by turning it into a two parter (a short one, but a two parter nonetheless) When I was struck down by a case of Nostalgia…I HATE Nostalgia! It always makes me depressed. But really, If you want to get a really bad case of Nostalgia, go to the HP stories from 2001-2, find an author that had their stories deleted or one that deleted their own stories (Usually because of Flamers)…But alas…what can you do? Hmm? Please review.

**stars stars stars stars stars stars stars stars **

_"Boy, Get into your cupboard! We won't let you ruin Dudley's Christmas!"_

_Harry rushed into his cupboard; He had learned quickly to obey Vernon's orders, much as it pained him to follow the orders of the fat muggle._

_A woman's voice shouted from behind him "What are you doing? I told you to clean up the kitchen!"_

_"But Uncle Vernon told me to go to my cupboard"_

_She slapped him "Don't talk back! No get into the kitchen!"_

_He hurried to the kitchen and looked at the fridge where Petunia had put up a menu, he squinted, trying to read he chicken scratch. Finally, he was able to discern her F's from her T's, and he got started._

_The first thing he did was lock the door (which separated the kitchen from the rest of the house) and the second was to pull the wand his Grandmother had given him out of his sleeve. He pointed the wand at the counter top, pictured the food that he was to cook and said clearly, "Obtestor!" there was a bang and smoke shot out of the wand when it cleared, the full meal was on the counter. He then placed an 'Ever Warm Charm' on the food, opened the door a crack and waited for the muggles to take their seats, when finally they did (it took an hour) he picked up the first course (with much difficulty) and carried it out to the table. _

_Vernon picked up his fork and nodded approvingly, "Excellent dressing, Petunia"_

_Petunia smiled at Vernon, then turned to Harry and snapped "Get back to the Kitchen until it's time to serve the next course"_

_Harry retreated back into the kitchen._

_The rest of the courses followed suit and finally it was over. When all of the dishes were in the kitchen He closed the door, pulled out his wand, and set to cleaning up the kitchen. He was just about done…and then the door opened, He had forgotten to lock it!_

_"BOY! HOW DARE YOU? WE TAKE YOU INTO OUR HOME AND YOU REPAY US WITH THIS ABOMINATION!" Vernon's many chins were shaking uncontrollably; he grabbed the wand out of the boy's hand and snapped it in half. _

_"No!" he rushed at Vernon, only to be pulled off of the ground by his hair, he screamed out in pain, twisting around and kicking as Vernon carried him to the cupboard. _

_The Man opened it and tossed Harry in, throwing the pieces of the wand in after him, "You will stay in here for the remainder of the time your with us, If you so much as make ONE sound I'll put you in an orphanage and then you'll never see another one of your kind again!"_

_And Harry curled into a ball, weeping silently, cradling the pieces of his father's wand._

**stars stars stars stars stars stars stars stars**

A high-pitched voice woke him up.

"Master Harry, Master Harry, Mistress tells Kreacher to wake you up. Master Harry!"

"What?!" Harry Glared at the cowering House Elf.

"Kreacher is sorry Master, Mistress has told Kreacher to wake Master up."

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself down, and said "Thank you Kreacher, I'm sorry for snapping at you."

The House Elf beamed at him "Kreacher is wishing Master a Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas to you too"

The House Elf grinned and **CRACK** he was gone.

**stars stars stars stars stars stars stars stars**

"Happy Christmas Grandmother"

"Happy Christmas Harry, would you like some tea?"

"Yes Please" He inhaled the scent of it, letting it wash over his senses, when he opened his eyes he found her looking at him amusedly.

"Good?"

"Very, thank you."

She nodded "would you like to exchange gifts now?"

He reached under the chair and pulled out a package, "Here's mine to you"

She took it from his hands and handed him one in turn.

He opened it, it was a book, he ran his hand down the spine and shivers ran down his, "What is this?"

She looked up from her gift, an antique tea set (that was enchanted to shoot tea at muggles), and said, "It's a book written by the Seer Cassandra, naturally most of it is untrue, but it's worth quite a lot, the bookseller didn't even know what he was carrying…not that I told him."

Harry grinned, "How do you like your gift?"

"Did you have any particular muggles in mind?"

"Our next door neighbors are rather loud…I thought we might use it on them"

She laughed, an rare event, "Yes, they're very annoying, we shall use it on them this summer, when they're all home"

Helaughed with her.

**stars stars stars stars stars stars stars stars**

Christmas vacation was, for the most part, a quiet affair. Harry read by the hearth, his Grandmother knitted, and when it finally ended Harry was sad to go. They left for the train station at Noon and arrived at 12:01 (they took the Floo), there Harry was greeted by the sight of all three of his friends (and their parents).

"Hello Hermione, Neville, Draco, how was your vacation?"

They all nodded and began telling what they did for their vacation.

"I got my name changed, and I received my inheritance papers"-Hermione

"We visited my p-Uncles and then we went to stay with relatives in Old Denmark"-Neville

"I convinced my father to buy me the new Nimbus, when it's released…he's friends with the company president"-Draco

After that they introduced their parents (or in Neville's case his Grandmother), who greeted him warmly (Except Hermione's father who seemed offended that Hermione had changed her name.)

Then they boarded the train…and began their journey back to Hogwarts.

Did you like it? Please Review.


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